“If he did it’s a pretty serious way,” said Jerry, “and he ought to be dismissed from the service. But it’s going to be as hard to prove that as it would be to prove that he had some plot on foot when he met that man at midnight. I don’t believe we can do anything unless we get better proof.” “Oh, drop it all!” exclaimed Ned. “It’s only a scratch, anyhow, and it won’t kill me. There’s just as much chance that it was an accident as that he did it on purpose. I’m not going to make any accusation against him.” “No, I don’t believe it would be wise,” agreed Jerry. “But, at the same time, we’ll keep watch on him. He may try something like it again.” Ned’s prediction as to the lightness of his injury proved correct. In two days he was out of the infirmary, and though he was not allowed to go in for violent drill for a week afterward, he said he felt capable of it. Pug Kennedy made a sort of awkward apology for his share in the accident. “I didn’t mean to do it,” he said to Ned. “But either you leaned over too far toward me, or else I slipped. You may think I did it on purpose, on account of you giving me away to the corporal that night, but I didn’t.” “I had nothing to do with your getting caught when you went out from barracks that night,” said Ned. “It was your own fault. As for getting square--you’re welcome to try.” “Who says I was going out of barracks?” asked Pug vindictively. “Weren’t you?” Ned asked. “No. Course not. I was coming in, and I sort of got lost in the dark. I didn’t know my way and I asked a fellow I met. He was one of the teamsters, I guess. I was talking to him, when I was caught--I mean you saw me and then the corporal came.” “We didn’t send for him,” declared Jerry “He just happened to come at that moment.” “Well, it looked as if you’d sent for him,” growled Pug. “I’d be glad to think you didn’t. And I’m sorry you’re hurt,” he added to Ned. “Oh, I’m not hurt much,” was the easy answer. “Next time I’ll give you plenty of room when there’s bayonet drill.” Whether Pug liked this or not, he did not say. But he went away muttering to himself. Ned was soon back with his chums again, drilling away, and dreaming of the time when he and they could go to France to fight the Huns. But much preliminary work was necessary. It was, as has been said, drill, drill, drill from morning until night. Meanwhile the boys were beginning to appreciate what the army life was doing for them. They were becoming better physically, every day; as hard as nails and as brown as berries. They wrote enthusiastic letters home, and received letters in reply, giving the news of Cresville. Matters there were about the same. There had been no more “peace” meetings, though it was said that Mr. Schaeffer and his fellow pro-Germans were contemplating another big meeting as a protest against the draft, which had been put into operation.